Название: The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End
Автор: Raymond E. Feist
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
isbn: 9780008113728
isbn:
‘Sir,’ said Ruther with a slight smile. The Duke’s second son had initially been overwhelmed by the responsibility of commanding the scant garrison but he had grown into the role by the day.
He hurried downstairs and found Bethany boiling bandages in the kitchen. It was a time-honoured tradition that if bandages were boiled and left to air dry, wounds bound with them were less likely to fester and require a healing priest. The keep at Crydee had a chapel in which any member of the household could pray to any deity but there was no resident prelate. Old Father Taylor had died two years before and Martin’s father had been remiss in petitioning the Temple of Astalon in Krondor to send out another priest. There were shrines in the town, and travelling priests of several Orders visited, but healing by magic means was no closer than Carse under normal circumstances.
Martin paused for a moment and watched Bethany. He had lost all anger at her defying his order to leave with their mothers and instead savoured both her beauty and her industry.
Finally he took a breath and came over behind her. She sensed him and turned. ‘Could you grab that bundle of rags over there, for me, please?’
He complied and when they were dumped into the pot he said, ‘How many of the wounded can travel without help?’
‘Not many. Those who can stand are still on the walls, some doing nothing more than showing the Keshians a face so they’ll think there are more defenders than there are.’
‘We’ll be evacuating the entire garrison after sundown. If a man is wounded but can help, I’ll send him to you.’ His voice fell. ‘How many cannot be moved?’
Grimly she said, ‘None. Those have already died. Some will have to be carried, but all can move.’
Martin sighed. ‘I want you to leave with the wounded. The first group.’
‘Where are we bound?’
‘The Free Cities. The rest of us will go on to Yabon.’
‘You sent our mothers north to the elves.’
‘It is a safer destination … The elves would welcome our wounded and the woman and children, but as well as we’ve got on with them over the years, I have my doubts about them welcoming an army. Besides, I’ve got what’s left of Crydee’s garrison here, and most of us can still fight.’ His voice lowered. ‘We just can’t fight here.’
‘You did the best you could,’ she said and put her hand on his arm. Then she kissed him lightly. ‘You really did, Martin.’
He tried to smile. ‘Still, it’s a bitter thing to lose your first battle.’
She tried to look brave, but her eyes welled up with tears for his obvious pain. She grabbed him and hugged him. ‘You did do everything any man could do.’ Then she kissed him hard on the neck, then added, ‘And I do love you so very much even if you are a humourless fool at times.’
Despite his fatigue and black mood, he was forced to chuckle. ‘Humourless fool? Faith, lady, I am injured.’
‘Just your vanity,’ she grinned. ‘I’ll start making the wounded ready.’
‘Good. If I can’t be back before the sergeant orders you out of the keep, stay well. I will find you when we are on the trail.’
She nodded and went back to the boiling bandages. Using a large wooden spoon she began picking up the dripping linen and hanging it in front of the fire to dry.
Martin did a quick inspection of the wounded himself, then hurried down to the basement and inspected the tunnel entrance. Two guards had been stationed in the sub-basement against the possibility of the Keshians finding the exit in the forest beyond and coming up through the tunnel. It was a faint chance if the entrance had been covered properly when the first group had left days earlier, but it was still a possibility.
To one of the guards he said, ‘Go to the old tack room. You’ll find a dozen bales of straw. Get some men to carry them down here. And then find a pot in the kitchen. So big.’ He made a circle with his hands showing something that would hold five or six quarts. ‘Fill it with lamp oil and bring it here.’
‘Sir,’ said the guard and hurried off.
Martin looked to the other guard and said, ‘How long have you been at this post?’
‘Can’t rightly say, sir.’ The guard was barely a boy, younger than Brendan from his appearance, and his uniform was ill-fitting.
Martin smiled. ‘I know every man in the garrison by sight. You’re not from the garrison.’
‘No, sir. Name’s Wilk. I’m the cobbler’s son. The sergeant said it would look better should the Keshians come if those of us bearing arms had uniforms on. Something about rules of war and the like.’
Martin nodded. It was a nice-sounding story, but not true. Civilian or soldier alike, he had no doubt what end would greet anyone found bearing arms when the Keshians finally broke into the castle. Though, given the reputation of Kesh’s Dog Soldiers, he doubted that bearing arms would make much difference. Those found within would either be put to the sword or sold into slavery.
Martin said, ‘I’ll see if I can get someone down to release you, Wilk. You should get a little rest. It’s going to be a long night.’
He hurried back to the topmost vantage point and found the Keshians had established two firing positions opposite the barbican and were trying to drive defenders off the roof. Sergeant Ruther was crouched down behind a merlon and Martin waved for him to approach. The sergeant ran in a crouch and when he was safely inside Martin said, ‘We can’t wait. Start the wounded on their way and then organize the men. When the time comes I want everyone but your ten best archers to leave on my command and run to the tunnel.’
‘When will that be, sir?’
‘When the Keshians get a ram through the outer portcullis, or I give the order, whichever is first.’
‘Sir.’
‘One more thing,’ said Martin.
‘Sir?’
‘If I don’t make it out, make sure you keep everyone together. Head east, and with fortune, you’ll encounter Father somewhere along the way. Report what was done here. If you don’t encounter him, send the wounded to the Free Cities with Lady Bethany, and take the garrison to Yabon.’
‘We’ll find your father, sir. You’ll tell him yourself.’
‘If, Sergeant.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now, form a flying company to gather in the great hall, twenty of your best men with short swords and knives, for close-in fighting.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Ruther. ‘I’ll get twenty of my best brawlers and have them here straight away.’
Martin glanced around as if looking for something to do and realized that for the moment his only choice was to get back on СКАЧАТЬ